


The 12(ish) Days of Christmas

by ourgirlfriday



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: 12 Days Of Avengers 2012, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Bad Science, Crack, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking, author does not know how to science, charles and erik are longsuffering, failed matchmaking, robot geese, slander against hank's good science reputation, very bad science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourgirlfriday/pseuds/ourgirlfriday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the twelve days of Christmas, and the children have a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 12(ish) Days of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Grand thanks to **Kageillusionz** for betaing this and supporting this madness. Any mistakes are my own. I am so sorry to all you scientists. Everything I learned about sciencing, I learned from Prometheus.

Charles, Erik considered, was many things. Pushy, yes. Brilliant, of course. Arrogant and passionate and irritating, beyond a doubt. 

A partridge? Apparently, for now at least. 

“Explain,” he grunted through clenched teeth. He wanted to glare at McCoy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of Charles, the resplendent partridge, perched majestically in one of the Xavier estate’s many pear trees. Every time he tried to look away, Charles would get in a bit of a strop and start hooting and swooping until he had Erik’s undivided attention again. 

“Well, it’s not Cerebro itself. I mean, obviously. That wouldn’t make any sense—“

“Enough about what it isn’t. Get to what it _is_.”

“We don’t know,” Raven sighed. She was circling the tree with a scarf, apparently intending to wrap it around Charles for warmth. It seemed like a silly thing to do for a partridge, but Charles always complained about being cold. It was hard to imagine that partridge Charles would be different. 

“I’m working on it,” Hank said as he polished his glasses. “But I can’t get close enough to Charles to run any tests, and with incomplete data I can only do so much.”

“It’s kind of cute,” Sean added from underneath the pear tree, looking at Charles with bright, envious eyes. He and Angel had tried to goat Charles into flying with them, but, aside from forcefully correcting Erik’s lapsed attention, the partridge wouldn’t budge. 

“Fix it,” Erik snapped. His eyes were beginning to water as Charles repositioned himself with a satisfied coo. 

*

The next day was much like the first, only instead of waking to find that Charles was a partridge, the household found he was a turtle dove. And instead of Erik tearing the house apart swearing vengeance against whomever dared move against Charles, he was also, unexpectedly, a turtle dove. 

A very demonstrative turtle dove.

“Um,” Angel muttered, backing away from the pear tree which was apparently Erik and Charles’s lovenest. 

“I had no idea turtledoves could hiss,” Sean said, pressing a handkerchief against the smallish cut Erik had left after he deemed Cassidy had gotten too close to himself and his apparent mate.

“I had no idea they could attack,” Darwin muttered. He ran a shaky hand through Alex’s hair. 

“I had no idea the professor was into that sort of thing,” Alex said. Everyone nodded, watching in varying degrees of dismay as their mentors –in bird form—canoodled in the tree above them.

“Should we give them privacy?” Hope was obvious in Raven’s voice. 

“I think we should make sure they’re ok, and that they don’t try to fly away.” Hank called, regret obvious in his voice. He settled further into the chair he’d brought out the previous day, and wrapped his hands around a thermos of coffee that Angel had made earlier. It was looking to be a long night. 

**  
The next day, things seemed to go back to normal. Around midnight, the cuddly doves glided to the ground and rubbed their cheeks together before, in a flash of light, returning to their very confused, cold, human (er, mutant) forms. 

Their naked human forms. Surprisingly, Charles took that part better than Erik, as Raven’s obvious discomfort with Charles standing naked in front of everyone added fuel to his theory that siblings just didn’t want to see each other naked, Raven, why are you bringing up tigers when we’re talking about being naked?. 

“Well, then,” Charles started, “that’s been quite enough excitement for one day --”

“Two days, actually,” Angel corrected, trying and failing to keep her attention to above Charles’s waist, much to Raven’s obvious ire. 

“Two days, then. If you’ll excuse me, I believe we should turn in for the evening.” With that, he walked to the house, paying no heed to the cold or the snow. 

“We will never speak of this again,” Erik added with a glare before following after Charles. 

“So,” Raven said, staring after the two as they entered the house. “Turtle doves, huh?”

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” Darwin added with a smirk. “What are the odds, huh?”

“What are you getting at,” Alex asked brusquely. It had been two strange days, and riddles could seriously go fuck themselves. 

“It’s just…awfully convenient, that they just so happened to check off the first two entries from that song.” 

“What are you saying,” Angel pressed. 

“Unless we want a house filled with birds and rings and drummers, maybe we should help out, is all,” Sean added.

“This is terribly unscientific,” Hank chided. “There has to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Sure,” Raven said, patting Hank’s shoulder. “You work on the science. We’ll deal with the rest.”

Meanwhile, inside the house, Charles and Erik shuddered simultaneously. They didn’t know what was going on, but something was afoot. 

***  
“Dear God, what is that awful noise,” Charles groused as he glared out the window. Erik stood next to him, tall and ready for whatever might come next. Charles could tell he was itching to use his constipated jazz-hands move. 

“It’s a chicken.”

“A chicken? We don’t _have_ any chickens.”

“Exactly.” Erik stepped forward, slightly in front of Charles. It would have been irritating had Erik’s mind not been positively radiating waves of determined protective thoughts. 

It was still irritating, actually. Just endearingly so. 

“I hardly think anyone would launch an attack by chicken,” Charles tried nonetheless, scurrying to keep up with Erik’s long strides to the front door.

“Stay here,” Erik barked as he threw open the door and stepped outside.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Dear lord, the man wasn’t even wearing slippers. Charles sighed and grabbed an extra pair of boots and set out after the fool. He didn’t have far to go, all things considered. Erik had paused, mind bright with incredulousness. Charles soon saw why.

“Why are there chickens in the greenhouse?” Erik asked, slumping against one of the glass walls.

“Why are the chickens wearing berets?” 

“I think they’re supposed to be French hens,” Raven added from where she had been hiding like a sneaky sneak. 

“That makes no sense.” Charles argued, “These aren’t even Faverolles,”

“They’re chickens wearing berets. Of course they’re _French_ hens. _Three_ of them, by my counting,” Raven replied. 

“No, they’re clearly Plymouth Rocks. A completely different breed. I think we need to discuss adding animal genetics to the curriculum,” Charles said plaintively to Erik. The taller man just wrapped an arm around Charles and ushered him back inside, shushing sad talk of genetics along the way.

“That could have gone better,” Raven muttered. 

“Tell me about it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get hens to wear berets? So many pecks. I need peroxide,” Sean answered, dropping from his hiding place in a nearby tree. 

“Come on, let’s see if Hank has any ideas.”

****  
The next morning, Erik woke with a jolt at the feeling of unfamiliar metal making its way down the hall, towards his and Charles’s quarters. Moments later, a strange sound broke the silence. 

“I swear to god, if we have more chickens I will make you all think you’re rabbits” Charles called in response. Erik grinned savagely. It was always lovely, seeing Charles’s ruthless side. And if Charles was comfortable enough with the intruder to leave them to their awful, loud business, it was likely just one of the children doing the strange, strange things they were so wont to do.

They’d still pay the price for interrupting his (and Charles’s) sleep of course, especially after the chicken incident. Charles hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of their conversations yesterday, only complaining about the lack of respect the children paid the noble pursuit of genetics. 

“Four of you,” he drawled as he opened the door, catching Alex, Darwin, Angel and Sean red handed. Or, rather, silver handed. “What _do_ you think you’re up to?”

“Bird calls,” Darwin answered, like that was something that would explain any of the last few days strangeness. It was, he thought, a bad sign when being physically morphed into a _bird_ was the most normal part of one’s week.

“Four bird callings.” Angel said, stressing the words oddly. Erik wondered, not for the first time, if whatever had changed him and Charles earlier in the week was somehow affecting the children’s reasoning. He’d have to ask Hank, later. 

_OH MY GOD GO TO SLEEP_ an irate voice shouted telepathically. The children all blinked simultaneously before dispersing. Erik smiled again as he crushed the bird calls in the children’s assorted pockets. Something strange was going on, and he’d get to the bottom of it. 

Later. 

*****  
“I have some good news and I have some bad news,” Hank announced to the small crowd gathered in his lab.

“Good news first,” Raven called. Sean, Alex, Darwin, and Angel all nodded in agreement. 

“Right. Well, I know what caused the transformations earlier this week. I’d been working on a serum to reverse the external manifestations of my mutation using several experimental compounds, and while it was stabilizing at a sufficiently cool temperature, I’m afraid, well…”

“Are you saying they drank your mystery potion?” Darwin interrupted in no small amount of disbelief.

“It’s a bit more involved than that--”

“Jesus, Charles,” Raven exhaled. “How can you be such an idiot?” 

“It, um. Might not have been entirely his fault. See, I didn’t have enough beakers at the time, and he’d left an old Sprite bottle in the fridge from ages ago, so I figured it would work if I sterilized it before storage--”.

“Why are all the smart people in this house idiots?” Alex cried. 

“Where did you learn science? I’m pretty sure that’s not how you science!” Angel moaned, face in her hands. 

“Erik is going to kill you so much,” Sean whispered, taking a step away lest saying the man’s name might act as a summons and bring Lehnsherr to them, bludgeoning weapon in hand. 

“Is my idiot brother going to be okay?” Raven said.

“Of course,” Hank said, affronted. 

“That doesn’t explain Erik.” Angel pointed out.

“He drank the serum, too. Less than Charles, of course, hence his minimal effects.”

“Why didn’t he turn the same time as Charles, then?” 

“See, he drank it _after_ Charles, but before I realized the mix up..”

“Hank. Just, what’s the bad news,” Darwin said before Raven could point out that Hank might not have standing to be affronted. At the mention of worse news, Sean, Angel, Raven, Darwin, and Alex held hands in comfort, preparing themselves for whatever was to come. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any gold rings.”

Everyone stared at him in silence. 

“Because of the song, you know? I mean, they’re obviously...fond of each other. And since we’re not worried about any rebirdification, it makes sense to pool our resources.”

“How is that the bad news? You turned our dads into birds!” Sean wailed. Raven and Angel patted him reassuringly as Darwin shook his head. 

“Well, the bird thing is over,” Raven said calmly. “We can talk about it later. What are our ideas for the rings?”

“I think I have an idea,” Hank chirped. 

Everybody groaned.

*****  
Erik narrowed his eyes as Hank, Raven, Angel, Sean, Darwin, and Alex very conspicuously tiptoed out of Hank’s lab and up the stairs to the main level. He was torn between being wary about whatever foolish nonsense was going on and despair over their collective lack of subtlety and stealth. Perhaps Charles had a point in designing remedial classes for them. He resolved to talk to Charles about it at the nearest opportunity. Preferably when whisky was involved. Charles was always more reasonable to Erik’s ideas when whisky was on the table. 

Over lunch, the kids were no less twitchy. Maybe he should call Moira and ask her to teach a class on the nuance of working undercover and keeping cool under pressure. 

_Erik?_ Charles sent over, more of a mental knock than fully expressed thought.

_What?_. The nice thing about communicating with a telepath was the lack of need for social niceties. 

_I’m concerned about the children._ Charles sent, keeping his eyes trained on the others. Raven squirmed in her seat like it was particularly uncomfortable, and Hank seemed to be trying to communicate with Alex and Sean using only his furry brow. Angel kept giggling, and Darwin was holding onto Alex’s hand like a vise. 

_You’re only just_ now _becoming concerned?_ Erik thought waspishly.

_Well, yes. They’re all...thinking about proposing to me._ Erik’s eyes snapped to Charles, who looked supremely uncomfortable. 

“ _What_? Erik shouted. 

“We didn’t say anything,” Raven exclaimed.

_We are definitely calling Moira in to teach about subtlety, my friend_ Charles sent in a far more sarcastic tone than was perhaps warranted. 

“I think I’m finished.” Charles said, standing abruptly. 

“Meet in the bomb shelter for class?” Alex asked with hopeful eyes. Charles blanched, sending a panicked tendril towards Erik. 

“No.” Erik answered. 

“Yes, quite right.” Charles agreed, looking at Erik gratefully. “Free afternoon for everyone. I’m going...somewhere.” With that he all but ran out of the room, with the children looking after him in confusion. Erik stood to find a phone. Clearly they needed Moira’s help with subtlety and stealth more than they ever imagined. 

******  
Charles woke far too early the next morning. The children had been up to something very odd ever since the bird incident, and while he’d grown to accept that sometimes changing form was a price he’d likely pay for being professor to a ragtag group of mutants. 

But this was really pushing things, he thought, as an unholy honking hit his ears. 

“Good god, why won’t they just kill me and be done with it,” Charles said to no one as he shuffled into his slippers (again) before making his way downstairs (again) to check on what tomfoolery his students had gotten themselves into (again). He wondered briefly if corporal punishment were underrated. 

“I believe they think death would be too kind,” Erik answered as the other man fell into step beside him. Charles grunted in agreement, and took the mug of tea Erik had somehow prepared and offered. They walked towards the kitchen, Erik stalking forward like he was on the trail of another nazi. Charles sighed fondly as he raised a hand and squeezed Erik’s shoulder. 

“Now now, no killing the children.” he chuckled.

“Not even a little?” Erik looked at Charles with soft eyes. Charles opened his mouth to say -- something, but another honk shattered the moment. Charles pushed Erik out of harm’s way and shouldered through the door, brandishing his teacup against any would-be attackers.

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like,” Hank said. He was sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by geese. Extremely angry geese, from the looks of it. Sean was on the table, waving a broom about. Alex was chasing one hissing goose with an open umbrella, and Angel spat venom at a particularly cranky bird. 

“Alright. Why do you have six geese in the kitchen?” Erik’s voice was flat and weary. Charles had never identified more with a voice in his life. 

“Do you want a pet? Is that what this is about,” Charles asked. “We can go get pets. I will get you all every pet imaginable if you will just _let us sleep._ ”

“They’re robot geese, if that helps,” Hank called. “I used a new synthetic polymer to create the skeleton system and modified Cerebro’s programs to --”

“Exceptional, Hank!” Charles said, eyes brightening at the promise of sweet lady science. 

“Turn them off or something,” Erik groused as he restrained Charles from hugging the robot geese much to Charles’s consternation. “Do not play with the robot geese,” Erik hissed in Charles’s ear. “It only encourages them.”

“True,” Charles mumbled. He made a note to seek out the geese later, when sourpuss metalokinetics were otherwise occupied. 

*******  
The next morning, Erik walked into the now cleaned of robot geese kitchen, to be confronted by seven origami swans made of aluminum foil, holding signs, which together red ERIK WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME? Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he turned on his heel and went to find Charles to commiserate over their worrisome charges. 

********  
“We need to step it up,” Darwin stated at the table the students have commandeered for their morning discussion. “They’ve spent time together, yes, but I’m pretty sure they’re just drinking. More than usual.”

“We can do this, guys!” Raven enthused. “We just need to...what is today?”

“Milkmaids milking.” Angel answered. 

“Well, fuck me.” Raven answered, sitting back in her chair. “Where the hell will we find eight milkmaids?” 

“The classifieds?” Sean offered. Angel snorted.

“Sure thing, Banshee. I bet there’s a section, ‘Have stool, will travel’”. 

“We can’t give up now, guys!” Alex cried, to everyone’s surprise. “They need us. Maybe we can get snakes.”

“Snakes?” Darwin repeated incredulously.

“Yeah. When they take poison from snakes, it’s called milking. We could get snakes.”

“No,” Raven said flatly. “No snakes.” 

“Can we have robot milkmaids,” Hank asked hopefully. 

“That’ll be plan b,” Angel said, looking thoughtful. 

********  
“Erik,” Charles called from the library. “Do you know anything about the sign telling us to make out or they’ll unleash the milkmaids?”

“I saw that,” Erik answered. 

“I’m beginning to think that ignoring the problem isn’t working.” Charles sat on the couch heavily, chewing on his bottom lip and brow furrowed. 

“We’ll just have to try harder.” Erik replied airily, not bothering to look up from his book. 

*********  
“So,” Raven sighed. “Dancing ladies.” 

“Any ideas, Angel?” Alex smirked. Angel glared at him and hit him with an elegant, yet strong, wing. 

“No. I think we need reinforcements.” Angel replied curtly. 

“What do you mean?” Hank asked, “Can we have more robots?” 

“No!” everyone shouted in unison. 

“Angel’s right,” Darwin said slowly. “This requires a….delicate touch.” 

*********  
Charles knew something was amiss even before the telltale smell of sulfur hit his nose -- Azazel’s mind flashed in his awareness, and he wasn’t alone. Janos, Moira, and _Emma Frost,_ were with him, and they were in the dining area with the children.

“We’re under attack,” he called to Erik, not pausing to hear any _I told you so’s_ or gloating. There’d be time for that, afterwards.

“I wouldn’t,” Erik said as he ran ahead, face half-shaven and shirtless. Charles was certain that they shared twin grim expressions, and were both radiating mixtures of rage and terror. 

“Of course you would,” Charles countered. “They have Moira.” Erik nodded in acknowledgement and ripped the dining room doors out by the hinges, calling cutlery to his aid while Charles readied himself to fight against Emma Frost.

It was very unexpected, then, to find the children and the trespassers engaged not in battle but in. Well. He supposed it was dancing, after a fashion. Angel had her arms around Janos’s neck, and Emma and Alex and Darwin were running around in a conga line. Sean and Azazel were doing the Russian sailor’s dance as Hank attended to the record player. 

“Hey guys,” Emma called. “Join the fun!” Charles caught Erik’s eyes, and he didn’t need telepathy to know that Erik was thinking something along the lines of “ _What the everloving fuck?_ It’s not like Charles was thinking anything different. 

“You three,” Erik sneered at Janos, Emma, and Azazel, pointing several sharp objects at them. “Out. Now.”

“That’s hardly the way to treat a guest,” Janos said, affronted. Azazel made a sound of disgust as he grabbed Emma and Janos by the hands and poofed away. 

“Moira, you’re welcome to stay of course. But could you perhaps leave us alone for a sec.” Charles asked. “We need to discuss some things with the children.” 

“Of course,” Moira answered, smoothing her soft grey suit. “Can I use your phone? I was at dinner when I was...interrupted.” 

“Sure,” Erik answered. “Perhaps the one in the kitchen. You’ll be less likely to hear any screams there.” He flashed his sharkiest grin at the children, who seemed to shrink collectively at the sight. 

“Perfect,” Moira replied. “Fury’ll be relieved that we don’t need to start a war over this. But don’t think I’ll forget this,” she said, pointing at the children. “I will find you when you least expect it, and I will cockblock you all so hard.”

Erik smiled more widely, at that. 

“Alright,” Charles said. “This has gone on long enough, and I probably should have put an end to it before now. Now what exactly are you doing?”

“Yes.” Erik added. “Explain. Now.”

“Just, one more day? Please?” Raven stepped towards Charles in full doe eyed mode, yellow eyes shining brightly with either unshed tears or tricksy Raven shapeshifting. Either way, Charles felt his resolve slipping.

“Fine. One more day. But that’s it, and you’ll clean up this mess. And, no dessert tonight.” With that, he marched out of the room with Erik at his heel. 

“Is it really wise to let this continue,” Erik pressed, placing a warm, heavy hand on Charles’s shoulder. 

“No, not at all. But you say no to Raven’s sad face next time.” 

Erik pressed their foreheads together, for a moment. “Fine,” he sighed against Charles’s ear. “But if it doesn’t stop, I’m sending them to boarding school. Or selling them to a circus.”

“Fair enough,” Charles chucked. “Now come on. Class time waits for no man.”

**********-************  
The next morning, Erik woke to a noise that put faux french hens, robot geese, and all the other hijinks of the past several days to shame.

“What is that racket,” Charles called. 

“I’ve no idea, but it’s related to Raven’s plea for one more day,” Erik groused. They dressed quietly and ran downstairs, where the children seemed to be banging pipes on drums and jumping around like foolish fools. 

“Merry Christmas!” they shouted once they noticed the adults’ entrance. 

“Christmas isn’t for two days,” Charles said nonplussed. 

“Did you all forget I’m Jewish?” Erik snapped. 

“Well, it’s not Christmas-Christmas,” Raven explained. “But come on. Twelve days? True love? You two obviously wanna get it on! We’re just trying to help!”

“Why would you even use Christmas songs?” Erik muttered darkly. “Honestly, if Charles and I weren’t already dating I’d refuse to go along with your scheme just on principle.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Er--wait, what?” Hank said.

“We’re together,” Charles said. “Romantically. And sexually.”

“Honestly, I thought all this racket was making up for any...noises you might have heard.” Erik admitted. 

“But. Really?” Alex muttered. 

“Jesus,” Raven huffed. “You mean we have six robot geese for nothing?” 

“You still have the robot geese?” Charles and Hank cried simultaneously, eyes alight with sciency wonder. 

“Do I have to kill someone to get some quiet?” Moira shouted from somewhere nearby. “I have a gun. I have _many_ guns.”

“Come on, everyone. Off to bed,” Charles harangued. “It’s only four in the morning. Why were you banging on drums at four in the morning?” 

“We never slept,” Sean answered. “The mission took precedence.”

“Well, that’s all done with. Classes cancelled for tomorrow, everyone rest up.” Charles called after the dispersing group. Erik came up behind him and pulled Charles back against him, curling his chin over Charles’s broad shoulder. 

“I’m checking into circuses tomorrow,” he said, kissing Charles’s cheek. 

“Poor circus,” Charles chuckled as he turned in Erik’s arms and graciously accepted a kiss.

*  
The next morning, Raven met the others at their usual table. She smiled brightly at the gathered, groggy faces.

“Good morning, fellow mutants. I hereby declare “Mission: Get Them Together” a rousing success. Now for phase two. Let me introduce “Mission: Get Them Hitched.”

Hank clapped his hands, and the robot geese came forward carrying dossiers. It was going to be a busy morning.


End file.
